Foundations
by Ultra-Violet-Star
Summary: Post CoE-Jack just wants to save the people he lost,and say goodbye. What lengths will he have to go to as he returns to Earth? Reasonable rating to start off with. Please review!- Possible pairing later- WARNING- CoE spoilers and depressing in parts.xx
1. Deciding

**Foundations**

Chapter One

_**This is a piece of fan fiction that came from an idea I've had for a while, even since the most depressing series ever- I.e, Children Of Earth. Couldn't get the idea out of my head, and so I decided to write it. I apologise if it isn't very good, but I'm used to writing purely pairing-based fics on my other accounts, so I'm not used to real, non-fluff based storylines ( so don't be surprised if you see a certain amount of fluff later on.) There will probably be a pairing later on, and some parts you might not like because of this- I also happen to be quite depressing. But please please please review and I will definitely update.**_

_He wished there was a way to do it, that would give him some chance to say goodbye. That was all he wanted. Just a chance._

_And it had to be at the right time. Which, of course, meant waiting. Half a year, maybe, Jack wasn't too sure. For anyone else, the wait would have been agonizing. But for him…he had endured over a century of waiting at one point. He could handle a few months. _

_He kept on travelling till the end, visiting the furthermost parts of the galaxy, black holes, the creation of planets. Fantastic things, beautiful things. He travelled alone; his visits were brief, only taking enough time to see what he intended to see. If he had been with someone, a companion, it would have been different. If he had been with the Doctor, they would have stayed and explored- and probably become embroiled in some piece of fast-paced action. _

_It was such a calm time it seemed ironic. There was no drama, no fast paced action. There was just travelling. Jack was shaking the dust from the Earth from his shoes, but the whole time he knew what was coming. He knew that very soon, he would plunge back into the life he was trying to save, the life whose remnants he was still trying to shake._

_He had a huge responsibility. He knew this. If everything went wrong…well. What exactly did he have to loose? A year ago, he would have feared losing his friends. Not any more. They were gone. Many, many, many more years earlier, he might have feared losing his life. The thought of feeling that way right now made him want to laugh bitterly. He was tied to this world, planted deep in the history, and even the future, like an ancient tree, spreading across the universe. But now his roots had been cut; there was nothing keeping him here._

_He wasn't even sure that this was the right thing to do. But before he could decide, he knew he had to get a little bit more dust on his shoes._

It was mid afternoon when he arrived. The sun shone brightly over the calm waves of the bay as they lapped softly at the stone harbour walls. The sky was thick with dark , heavy clouds scarring the perfect blue. Shoppers milled from one store to the next, glancing worriedly up at the sky and the clouds. The town was busy today, bustling with life. Bustling with children; children with their parents, eating lunch on benches, riding around on small scooters and racing with their friends. Their crying and laughter filled the air and lingered there.

Jack Harkness stood a few metres away from the Carousel, watching it spin, the horses rising and dropping rhythmically as the music drifted over. He closed his eyes for a second and bathed in the familiarity of the area; the sound and smell of the water, hollow footsteps on the wooden pier, the shouts and cries…he had almost forgotten what it was all like.

It was only when he felt the first few cold droplets of rain falling on him that he opened his eyes, and registered the odd looks a few people had been throwing at him. He felt a little panicked for a second, before taking a deep breath. They weren't looking at him because they recognised him- it was a lot more likely that the strange looks he was getting was a result of the fact that for the last ten minutes, he had been standing, watching children quietly. Not the best impression to make, really.

Straightening up, he buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket and began to walk.

When he reached the small low bridge that overlooked his destination, he stopped, resting his hands on the concrete and staring.

It may have been months, but some part of Jack hadn't expected this, this perfect scene that lay before his eyes. He had almost expected to see the scene of destruction that must have been left when the bomb had exploded. Instead, he saw an almost identical scene to how it used to be. There was no rubble, no thick clouds of smoke. It was like he had never left- no, like he had never been here, like the bomb had never exploded. The Plass was gleaming at the far end of the circle, the floor smooth with new concrete as teenagers on skateboards, springing around on pogo-stilts. The only sign of any past damage was a cordoned off corner, where workmen had spent their time earlier on in the day, throwing crumbling rock into a large yellow skip and replacing it with a brand new layer of concrete. The work was half finished; with the first signs of the impending storm, they had left, a tarpaulin elevated on poles and spread across the work-site, orange cones marking it off.

There was a lump in Jack's throat as he tried to swallow. Slowly, he began to walk. Each step he took sounded like the thunderclap that the sky threatened to release as it poured rain down as a warning. The kids messing around on pogo stilts packed up and left as the hail got stronger. It drenched Jack, plastered his hair to his head, blinded his vision and made his long jacket even heavier than usual. He carried on walking, until he arrived at the Roald Dahl Plass.

It looked exactly like it used to. He wondered if the explosion had hit this part; he fingered the watch-like device around his wrist but didn't dare to try anything- he knew it was impossible that anything successful would happen. Not for the first time he thought about the damage he had left behind. The Hub had been destroyed before and had been fixed but he felt his usual dull pang of sadness as he tried to accept the fact that the damage couldn't be fixed. He wondered if UNIT had taken it over, laying their own foundations in the spot he had worked so hard to maintain. He had always tried to keep the location secret from them, and he hoped it wasn't in vain.

The area looked exactly alike. There really was only one way to find out.

With a sigh, he stepped forwards and stood nervously on one certain thick slab of stone. Spotting a woman hurrying along underneath a large umbrella, he shouted out to her.

"Excuse me!" He called out to her. She continued on, not even turning to glance at him. Something strong was building in the pit of his stomach and as he spotted another woman walking by closer to him, his voice shook a little as he called through the pelting downfall.

Once again there was no response. They couldn't see him. Even if this spot had been hit, it hadn't been affected. Couldn't get rid of it, just like the man who caused it. Jack smiled for the first time in months, as he reached up to wipe away the rain from his face.

Deciding to try one last time as he saw a figure moving closer towards where he stood, he squinted through the rain blindly. The sky had gotten even darker now. This was the start of a big storm and everybody else had taken shelter. Even if he had wanted to, there was nowhere he could have gone. Not anymore.

"Hello!? Hello!?" There was no reaction as the figure approached him. He paused and tried to cover his eyes to protect them from the blinding rain.

"Hello?! Hey!" Nothing. Jack concentrated as the figure walked past the Plass. Something made him call out one last time.

"Excuse me! Hey! Can you hear me?" This one last time was louder than before as he finally prepared to give up and leave. There was no reason to stay, as far as he could see.

But at times like this, a reason can come out of thin air ( or chilly, wet air.) And as the figure turned abruptly and slowly began to walk towards him, a stroke of lightning illuminated the sky, and light flashed across the town. In the short seconds that followed, Jack found his reason; he found himself looking into the eyes of a woman, a woman soaked with the rain, her dark hair plastered to her face, her eyes wide with pure shock. Jack found himself looking into the bewildered eyes of Gwen Cooper.


	2. Grieving

**OK-this story doesn't have a specific pairing- yet- but you might be able to tell from this chapter that I do ship Jack/Gwen (a little). But I think each character will have a chapter, so it was just Gwen's turn. Please review!**

The last time he had seen her, she had been six months pregnant, so naturally the first thing he noticed was that she was free of any traces of a pregnancy; if anything, she was thinner than before. She captivated him, as he took in every detail. She wore a white camisole, with lace around the hem, and a brown leather jacket. Her jeans were simple and he could see her black boots. She wore a necklace that seemed familiar; a silver chain with small charms. Every inch of her seemed to be soaked, and her hair was dark with the water- it looked even darker against her pale skin.

A moment passed, as Gwen looked right at the spot where Jack stood, as if she could see him. A wave of emotions flooded through his weary body. The lift worked, it still had the power to hide the person that stood up in- yet why was she staring at him, with a look of disbelief clear on her features?

Jack swallowed and stepped forwards off the slab of rock. Gwen's eyes became wide and she pressed her hand over her mouth in disbelief.

"Jack!" She cried and moved as if she were going to embrace him, before stopping awkwardly. The look on her face made it plain that she was not sure whether he was real, or just a fragmented memory.

"It's me Gwen. It's me." He said, and the words hung in the air and left him feeling foolish. He extended a hand, and rested it on her forearm, feeling the wet leather of her jacket and fighting the urge to feel her skin; he had proved he was real, he was here, but an irrational fear gripped him- was she real? Was _she_ the dream? Moving closer, he ran his hand down her arm and gently held hers, feeling the warm skin brushing against his. It was all so familiar, and in a second, he was back, walking past the cells in the Hub, talking to her, touching her…

Gwen watched his face, barely registering his actions until she felt his skin on hers; automatically, she squeezed his fingers, interlocked them tightly as if she was scared he would flee. Jack wondered if she was scared of him being here. She was one of the few people left that had seen the extent of his actions, seen what he could do. Did she fear him, just a little?

He opened his mouth to speak, but froze. He had no words.

Gwen watched him the whole time.

"Jack…"She said again, and pulled him into a hug, her hands on his back. Her hands curled into fists as she held the soaking material of his coat, pulling him even closer. It took a second or so, but Jack responded, slowly. He buried his hands in her hair and held her just as tightly, as if he couldn't bear to let her go. She smelt so familiar, of strawberry and apple shampoo, of musk, of memories that haunted him- good memories, mingling with the bad.

They took refuge in a nearby café, walking there slowly and silently, arms linked. Gwen was still shocked, still scared that he would fade away, or just leave. A feeling of knowing apprehension began to trickle into her mind, as they sat at a table in a quiet corner near a radiator. They ordered coffee- or rather, she did. Jack sat silently, looking at her, or staring down at his hands. His silence didn't make her feel any better. As the seconds passed she almost began to dread how this conversation was going to pan out.

The coffees arrived and Gwen held the steaming cup in her hands, to warm up the icy skin. Jack continued to watch her, but it was with a slightly more relaxed air, like seeing her do something so trivial, so typically human made him feel a little better.

Gwen sipped her drink, and Jack followed her example. She swallowed and paused for a moment.

"Nowhere near as good as Ianto's." She said quietly, so that only Jack could hear her. She set her cup down on the table and looked up at him nervously.

Jack smiled and took another sip. "He used to get so…mad when we bought coffee from Starbucks."

"He preferred buying it for us." Gwen smiled. Jack, lost in memories, gave a half grin.

"Never made any sense to me, that he would criticise us for buying it, but had no problem buying it for us. Sometimes I think…" His sentence trailed off.

"Jack-" Gwen began quietly, but he must have heard something in her voice that alarmed him, because he snapped out of his trance- like state and looked at her.

"Don't." It was a simple enough request but Gwen was desperate to continue, to ask him all the questions that had plagued her over the last six months. She wanted to know everything, and as usual, he wouldn't tell her. But his pleading eyes banished her inquisitive nature and she nodded slightly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking their coffees. After he had drained the last of his drink, Gwen tried again.

"Jack. Please, talk to me." The hurt in her voice made Jack feel selfish. He reached over and took her hand.

"I've been…travelling. Shaking the dirt of my shoes, remember?" She nodded.

"I've seen…so much. So many things Gwen. I've travelled from one side of the galaxy to the other. I just…I can't explain how it was. So terrible, so beautiful…"He looked up into her eyes ."So beautiful."

"But you came back." She pointed out. She bit her lip. "Why?"

"I …" Jack began his sentence, then stopped and changed his mind.

"There are some things I need to do."

Gwen was disappointed with his lack of elaboration. "Oh." Jack noticed and squeezed her hand. Running his thumb over her fingers, he paused and held her hand up between them.

"No wedding ring." Jack asked, but his tone revealed that it was more of a question than a statement. For the briefest second she considered shaking away his question, or telling his something basic and simple; she couldn't. She could never keep anything from Jack successfully.

"Things aren't going to well with me and Rhys." She told him carefully.

He waited silently. "Last time I saw you, you were both fine. _Better_ than fine." He froze, and realisation crashed down on him like a ton of bricks. "The baby…?" He asked tentatively, and a stab of guilt pierced him as a tear spilled down Gwen's cheeks. Her face remained calm and impassive but she pulled her hands away from his and clutched them together.

"Still-born." Gwen told him quietly. "Jack Ianto Williams." It was simple, but it was enough. Jack clutched her hand and wiped away the tears from her face. No words were spoken; no words were needed. In that time, any feelings of self-hatred he had endured over the last few months doubled. How could he have left her? What kind of person could do that?

"You're leaving again, aren't you?"

Jack turned to look at her, as she tucked her hair behind her ears as the wind blew against them. The rain had stopped a few hours ago- they were standing overlooking the bay, the air colder now as the smudges sky darkened with the setting of the sun.

Jack slid his arm around her shoulders carefully.

"Yeah."

Gwen sighed and swallowed. The wind whipped through her care and Jack watched her from his side-on angle intently.

"Are you coming back?" She asked lightly. _Am I going to see you again?_

"I don't know, Gwen." he answered quietly. She nodded. Tears were spilling down her face.

" Do you want me to stay? Just until sunrise?" He asked. His offer was truly genuine, not just a means to appease his conscience. He couldn't stay forever, but he could stay for tonight if she wanted.

"_A million shadows of human emotion_." Gwen echoed. She noticed the confused look he gave her and shivered. "Sorry. "

"I'll be fine, Jack. Rhys'll be back from work soon."

"Talk to him," Jack told her, "Everything will be ok. I promise."

Gwen struggled as if she were going to speak, then leaned into him, resting her head in the crook of his neck. She breathed in his smell and closed her eyes tightly, committing his scent to memory. A single tear ran down her pale cheeks, unnoticed by Jack, who pulled her closer to him.

And then the time came for them to part, as they pulled away for one last time. For one last time, Gwen looked him up and down. And then they walked. They passed the Plass, walked past the tourist office, and went along until they reached the same spot Jack had stood in hours earlier.

Words were pointless. Silently, Jack leaned down and pressed a light kiss against her lips, pulling away incredibly slowly, and hesitating, looking into her eyes. He turned and walked a few metres away, determined not to look back at her-

"Jack."

He turned slowly. Gwen stood, mascara trails down her cheeks as she cried.

"It wasn't your fault," She told him, and he could hear a note of pleading in her voice, begging him to believe her. " You had to. It wasn't your fault."

He averted his eyes from hers and nodded. Turning, he swallowed, and continued to walk. Gwen watched as he walked, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he was gone.

_His visit to Gwen had made him yet more determined. They hadn't talked properly; he was grieving and so was she. The guilt he felt over her loss made his heart break. He wanted to stay with her, he wanted to make everything better. He had seen ,the look in her eyes; the dull sadness that told him that something inside her was broken. She was all he had left of Torchwood, and he hated the fact that he could hardly bare to even look at her. She reminded him too much of what he had lost. He wondered if it was the same for her. She had lost her baby, her child- Jack Ianto Williams. He wondered if she had ever even held him, and it hurt too much to even think about what her reaction must have been like when she hadn't heard the babies cry, when she had realised her baby boy was dead._

_He wanted to stay, to be able to look at her every day and not feel the overwhelming pain he felt now. _

_And she had been wrong. Because it was his fault, all of it. But he could fix it…_

_No. Not yet. There was more to do, more to see. _

_For him to get his chance to make everything better, he needed to travel some more. He needed to go back, not forwards- but not yet. There was somebody else in this year he needed to see._


End file.
